


Sleepy (DMMd 69min Challenge)

by wantonwasting



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2019-03-02 01:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13307070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wantonwasting/pseuds/wantonwasting
Summary: Koujaku opened the door with a sigh and stepped inside. Beyond, the hallway was light but the lounge room lights were off. It wasn’t unusual; he often turned off all the lights before going out for the night. But when he stepped into the lounge room, he realised it was not completely dark at all. Five holographic screens were situated around the couch, three running data in incomprehensibly fast streams while another, slower, screen had headlines in German





	Sleepy (DMMd 69min Challenge)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I found out that writers can participate in the 69min challenges too! But I think next time I should leave more than 10 minutes for editing ^^;;   
> (resisting the urge to edit this more after the time was up was really hard~   
> (＃＞＜) but it was also a fun experience I guess?)

Koujaku opened the door with a sigh and stepped inside. He ran a hand through his hair and set his sword down by the door. Tonight, he had gone out drinking with his teammates, and what had started off as an enjoyable night had quickly turned sour. From a run in with not one but two separate Rib teams, he had discovered that some areas of Beni-Shigure’s turf were being contested. Usually he did mind, since the low calibre groups that typically pulled stunts like that were quickly and easily dealt with – but being ambushed in quiet neighbourhood streets was not only rude, but also dangerous. Most Ribstiez teams knew better than to fight in the residential areas; it would only alienate those who lived there, and no one wanted that. It was hard enough with Akushima around, Rib teams did not need angry residents chasing after them.

He would have to make a formal apology to the residents there. Tae-san was on the Old Residential District Council, so she would know who he would have to speak to. He resolved to visit her the next day – the sooner the better in these cases. With a heavy sigh, he pulled off his shoes and left them in the genkan before stepping up into the house.

At least he was home now.

Beyond, the hallway was light but the lounge room lights were off. It wasn’t unusual; he often turned off all the lights before going out for the night. But when he stepped into the lounge room, he realised it was not completely dark at all. Five holographic screens were situated around the couch, three running data in incomprehensibly fast streams while another, slower, screen had headlines in German. The fifth appeared to be showing a map of Midorijima, but the images jumped around from one place to another; no doubt tracking and predicting Rhyme battle locations.

Noiz was curled up on the couch, asleep. His face was illuminated by the cold light of his data screens, though there was no way he was processing any of the information displayed on them; his long eyelashes lay flush against his cheeks, eyes closed. One arm was hanging off the cushions, his bandaged knuckles brushing against the hardwood floor. His head rested on the arm of the couch, hat almost pushed off.

Some of the tension faded from Koujaku’s shoulders as he stood in his place. Noiz’s chest rose and fell in deep even breaths, and the rhythm did not change, even when Koujaku approached. Accompanied by the squeak of the floorboards, Koujaku walked around the couch and took the blanket from the far chair to spread over sleeping brat; even if Noiz could not feel it, it was a cold night. Without the heater on inside – Noiz always forgot, no matter how many times Koujaku told him to turn it on if he was going to be there a while – it was almost as cold inside as it was out. The predictions had forecast frost for the morning before the rain set in for the afternoon.

Koujaku settled the blanket, and stepped back. He knew Noiz was a heavy sleeper, so he wasn’t worried about waking him. He went into the kitchen and made himself a cup of hot tea. Slightly bitter, the warm drink soothed some of his headache. He returned the lounge room and sat down in one of the chairs. He considered asking Usagimodoki to stop running their screens, but Noiz’s AllMate was temperamental at best and would often refuse to respond to his requests. And besides, they cast enough light to see by, and if he turned them off he would just have to turn on a lamp anyway.

Koujaku sat back and rubbed his temples. Maybe he was getting too old for Ribstiez. Cold nights like this set every previously broken bone to aching. Rib itself was changing too; after what happened to Dry Juice, people were more cautious about joining, and many teams had become more insular and aggressive. Talking to Mizuki would not help in this case – the tattooist was aware of the changes in the game, and was convinced that he bore the lion’s share of the blame. No matter how Koujaku tried to reason with him, that it was not just Morphine’s brief resurgence but also all the changes that had come about as a result of the fall of Platinum Jail, Mizuki would just smile his usual smile and change the subject.

Maybe Koujaku needed something stronger than tea to drink.

His gaze fell once again on Noiz’s sleeping face. It was funny how soft he looked asleep. Usually he was irritable and petulant or haughty and disdainful, but asleep he looked cute and young and soft. His mouth was slightly open now, and the quiet rush of his breath was the only sound in the room.

Koujaku pushed to his feet, leaving his cup on the table. He had had enough thinking for one night. He’d take a shower and then go to bed, since he had enough work to do the next day. Walking softly out of habit, Koujaku skirted the holographic screens and made his way to the bathroom.

He was longer in the shower than he had intended; the warm water soothed away the rest of his aches with the blood and dirt from his skin. Watching the water swirl down the drain was cathartic. He stepped out of the bathroom still exhausted, but feeling emotionally fortified by the cleanness of his skin. The smell of shampoo was a powerful mood enhancer. He dressed and then sat on the corner of his bed to towel his hair dry. Once it was as dry as he could be bothered getting it, he combed and plaited it with deft fingers to keep it neat. Beni, who had been in sleep mode in his bag was set on his bedside table, already with an alarm set for a reasonable hour in the morning.

Koujaku walked back out to the lounge room. Noiz had shifted a little in his sleep, his hat had fallen to the floor as he had stretched out, but otherwise he had not appeared to have woken. Koujaku leant over the back of the couch and ran a hand through Noiz hair.

“Usagimodoki, you don’t need to run the screens anymore.” Koujaku said softly. “Save everything and shut down.”

“P?” One cube beeped. “P!”

Much to Koujaku’s relief, the screens closed one by one, casting the lounge room into darkness. Koujaku stayed as he was, gently stroking Noiz’s hair as he allowed his vision to adjust to the gloom. The weight of his hand against Noiz’s head and the change in light made the Rhymer stir a little. Koujaku could barely make out the frown that crossed his features, and his eyes cracked open.

“What?” Noiz said, his voice thick with sleep.

“You can sleep in the bed, you know.” Koujaku said.

“I’m working.” Noiz said.

“I can tell.” Koujaku said, smiling.

Noiz scowled and pushed himself upright, the blanket falling off his shoulders as he did. Koujaku pulled his hand back and straightened. Noiz yawned and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“You’ve messed my hair all up again, haven’t you?” Noiz said.

“You did that.” Koujaku pointed out.

“Whatever.” Noiz said. He yawned again.

“Sleepy, huh?”

“A bit.”

“Let’s go to bed then.”

“Carry me.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, if you aren’t strong enough-”

“Fine, fine.” Koujaku said, walking around the couch. He lifted Noiz into his arms, grunting a little as he straightened. Noiz wrapped his arms around Koujaku’s neck and sighed. His hands and the breath he exhaled into Koujaku’s chest were soft and warm. How had it come to this? “Happy?”

“Yeah.”

Despite himself, Koujaku smiled, and kissed Noiz’s forehead.

“What was that for?” Noiz asked, opening an eye.

“You. Being cute.”

“Tch.” Noiz grunted, and laid his head back down on Koujaku’s shoulder.

Koujaku carried Noiz to bed, setting him down on the mattress before he walked around to the other side and climbed in himself. He pulled the covers up over both of them, and was pleasantly surprised when Noiz snuggled into his chest.

“What’s this about?” Koujaku asked.

“Shh.” Noiz said. “I haven’t slept in three days.”

“You’ll make yourself sick if you keep that up.” Koujaku said.

“I’ve got a pretty good stamina, old man. I thought you knew.”

Koujaku pulled Noiz in tighter. “Shitty brat.” He muttered into his hair. He was so warm; that was one thing that he could never get used to. Perhaps Noiz just had a higher body temperature than an average person. Slowly, Noiz’s breathing evened out and became deeper.

All of the problems of his night faded away into oblivion. He could not keep them in his mind. Warmed by Noiz’s body heat and encircled in the comforting weight of his arms, Koujaku could feel himself falling asleep. His breathing unconsciously matched Noiz’s, and he would not have been surprised if his heartbeat had also fallen into time. He pressed another kiss into Noiz’s hair, and let his eyes fall closed.


End file.
